


After The Cabinet Kiss

by SwellDame



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alley Sex, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, One Night Stands, Season/Series 02, Sexual Tension, Smut, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 13:30:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7441066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwellDame/pseuds/SwellDame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What might have happened between the "cabinet kiss" and the following day with Anne wearing the same dress and her hair no longer in a braid. Hmmmm?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you sooo much to Charis for beta-ing this piece and shadow-in-the-shade for helping me write the more “mature” parts.

They fled from the castle as one unit, retracing their steps back through the tunnels to avoid capture and not one word passed between them. The moonless night allowed them to slip away from the grounds and back to the city where they disappeared into the streets amongst the beggars and prostitutes. Admittedly, their escape was a blur to Anne.  
  
The kiss they had shared lingered on her lips, its warmth still hummed throughout her body. But she remained silent, watching Athos walk ahead of her. His strides were long and quick. It seemed as though he no longer knew or cared if she was behind him. She should feel insulted and disgusted with him. He had chosen that moment to kiss her, after he accepted she was telling the truth about Thomas all along. Was his kiss supposed to absolve her of all the guilt and torment he held against her since that fateful day? That all was forgiven between them now? Athos once again confused and infuriated her all the same.  
  
She was about to call after him, perhaps taunt him a little to see if he was paying attention to her whereabouts when he suddenly stopped. One step short of bumping into him, Anne stopped too. She eyed the streets and listened but there was nothing suspicious so far. At least it was a welcomed distraction.  
  
“What is it?” she whispered. The Red Guards weren’t smart enough to actually follow them, but perhaps it was one of Rochefort’s goons.  
  
One moment Athos was still and the next he turned, grabbing her by the arms, and pushed her deep into the darkened alley behind her. Anne’s hand immediately went to the blade strapped to her thigh. His body covered hers as if to hide her from plain sight but it was already dark, no one could possibly see them. Every fiber of her body was screaming to lean into him but she resisted.  
  
“What is it? What did you -” Her words were cut off by Athos’s lips, as he pulled her into him and crushed her against the wall so hard the rough stone bit into her shoulders. She was glad of it; if it wasn’t for him and the wall she was not sure she would have been able to stay standing, and her knees were already weak from the kiss they shared in the cabinet.  
  
She wanted to berate herself for all but swooning like a ridiculous young girl. Her head whirled with thoughts she didn’t want at the moment, especially considering the prospect of how easily her walls were obliterated by his long-absent warmth.  
  
She knew the only way to calm her mind was to give in, so she simply stopped thinking and kissed him back. He only let go of her lips to dip his head to her neck – she suddenly became achingly aware of the fact that she still had it uncovered. It didn’t matter now, he was kissing and nipping at her throat like he wanted to erase a bruise, as though that were possible.  
  
“Thank goodness –” she ground it out in a breath that tried desperately to sound calm – “I thought it was something important.”  
  
“Will you –“ he hissed each word out between a kiss – “please – shut up?”  
  
She took pity on him, after all he was clawing at her skirts, pushing them up roughly around her waist, tendering all of his desperate lust and need like an alm, a stolen prayer to a goddess of the alleyways.  
  
She should have known – she was usually so good at knowing – that all of their strained moments over the last few weeks had been leading to this. But inevitability did not stop it from feeling amazing when he sank inside her, pushing her up against the wall, breath hot against her neck.  
  
Anne gasped when she felt a scream rising in her, and he kissed her, keeping it down, keeping away the shady characters who would be curious as to know what they were doing. She clutched the back of his jacket, to keep herself in place. She had forgotten, she was not sure how – that it could feel like this, even though she had been living on the memories for more than five years.  
  
Nobody else ever made her feel like this, but thankfully, every frightening memory of tenderness was drowned beneath the current wave of sensation and delight. She surrendered to it; just for once, she promised herself, even aware that she was lying to herself all the same.  
  
Five years of waiting, of wanting this had made him impatient, exquisitely rough, and she was surprised to find herself wanting the same, meeting his motion and urging him for more with the small thrusts of her hips. She realized that with all the lies between them their bodies were at least capable of a blatant and breathtaking honesty. She had to break from the kiss for breath, biting her lip to muffle her screams. He buried his own cries, shuddering into her neck. She remembered that too – he had never been any quieter than she was.  
  
He stayed inside her for as long as the position would hold, not wanting – she felt it too – to be any further away from her than this. It could only last for so long though. She was more glad than ever to have him half slumped against her, half holding her up so she did not just slide down the wall. Finally he moved off, she brushed down her skirts and looked away –  
  
“We should –” she began.  
  
“We should,” he nodded agreement, neither of them with any idea as to just what it was they should do.  
  
This time Anne led the way out of the alley, trying desperately to find her footing once again and not allow him to see she was walking on weak knees. _Damn the man._


	2. Chapter 2

But she stopped short. Something wasn’t right - the nighttime hustle of the street was quiet now - too quiet, as if everyone was on their guard, being watched. Anne gripped the blade at her side.  
  
“Anne,” Athos’ voice made her jump. She looked up at him, knowing that he was about to say more, most likely about what had just happened - he always chose the worst times to talk about emotions -  but his concentration shifted. She could see he was calculating and eyeing the streets for their best option.  
  
“This way,” he whispered and they ducked into another alleyway. Both were quiet again, moving side by side with their hands poised over their weapons, alert at every turn.  
  
A slip of a red cloak in the distance made them dodge back into the shadows and hold their breath. They both stood still, their instincts on edge. Their only option was to wait and see if the guard happened to walk by them in the wrong place at the wrong time.  
  
As she watched with only the sound of their breathing and the muffled voices of nearby peasants, Anne realized that although her mind was vehemently against a repeat performance of what happened in the other alley, her body was very much in agreeance to it. The mere sound of his huffing made her feel flushed. Her hand gripped the stone wall behind her, making a concerted effort to inch away from Athos as quietly as possible. But it was the sound of her dress scraping along the stone that made Athos turn his head toward her. His glare made her stop and scold herself for acting so foolish. Again.  
  
With his pistol prepared to aim, Athos snuck a look around the corner. The alley was empty.  
  
“He must have walked the other way,” he said as he turned to her. “We’ll still need to be careful.”  
  
Anne nodded and followed him out again, trying to control herself. When they came to the clearing in front of the garrison, Anne stopped short as Athos bypassed the gates and approached the sally-port, pounding on the wood. When he turned back to look at her, his face was cross.  
  
“In,” Athos indicated to the open door of the Garrison.  
  
Anne shook her head, adding, “I have a room at the - ”  
  
“Now,” he commanded.  
  
“Fine. But don’t bark orders at me like I’m one of your soldiers. I can take care of myself,” she hissed at him as he closed the door behind him.  
  
“This isn’t about you,” Athos snapped back as they moved toward the center of the yard.  
  
“Athos?” someone called out from behind them and they both turned. Anne immediately recognized him as the scrawny boy she stole the chicken leg from when she first came to the Garrison to see Athos and Treville. She couldn’t help but smirk - this was who they left to protect the grounds? Maybe she should stay behind incase they needed reinforcements.  
  
“Treville said we might be expecting you tonight,” the boy approached them and then glanced at Anne, no doubt remembering her as well.  
  
“Are you the only one here?” Athos asked and the boy shook his head.  
  
“There are a few more us… We’re taking charge on being the look-out,” he explained which prompted a derisive snort from Anne. She looked away, assessing the weak spots of the interior yard.  
  
“You’re doing a fine job, Maurice.” Athos said as he made his way towards the staircase. “If you need us, we will be in my quarters.”  
  
Athos turned around, expecting Anne to be behind him but she wasn’t. Her defiant gaze could be read from where he stood on the landing and it was clear he was too tired to argue with her.  
  
“Anne!” Athos called out to her but she refused to move.  
  
“I don’t think we’re allowed to have women in the…” Maurice spoke up, stuttering a bit.  
  
“I’m not any woman, _boy_ , I’m his wife,” she fired back and pushed past him, ascending the first flight of stairs before ignoring her husband to ascend the second. She wanted to look determined and resolute but when she reached the top of the staircase, she realized she didn’t know where to go.  
  
She leaned against the balcony railing refusing to look down at the two bemused men below. She heard a muffled apology from Maurice and soon, Athos was beside her, his outstretched arm pointing down the corridor.  
  
“This way,” he muttered and continued to walk without any concern as to whether or not she was following him. But she did. Reluctantly.  
  
Anne realized she was starting to resent having this magnetic pull towards him whenever they were close. She wasn’t supposed to be here, yet here she was, allowing him to open the door to his quarters for her and stepping inside without pause or protest. And as soon as he closed the door, it was hard for her to breathe again.  
  
She forgot how much she missed watching him move around a room, the way he still carried himself as though he was still a Comte - square shoulders and steady walk - but was still very much the Musketeer he had matured into being, with all the heavy weight that came with it.  
  
“Anne?” His voice shook her from her thoughts. “Did you hear me? You can have the bed.”  
  
“You?” She pushed herself to the small table in the corner and took off her gloves. The more distance between them, the better.  
  
“The chair.” He responded and she gave him a faint nod.  
  
It was then, as she started undoing the braid in her hair, that she realized Athos didn’t seem to be the least bit disturbed about what previously transpired between them. A heat of rage engulfed her carnal instincts, almost making her forget they ever existed. Almost.  
  
Because his hands were suddenly in her hair, unraveling the rest of the braid with light caresses and tugs. Anne found herself leaning into his touch against her better judgment and once she felt his lips curl around her earlobe, she moaned.  
  
“Anne,” he whispered into her hair while his hands snaked around her waist and pulled her closer.  
  
“God help me,” Anne sighed and turned around, lips meeting Athos’ in a heated kiss.  
  
This was infinitely different from what happened in the alleyway earlier. It was a passionate rhythm that was slow and hypnotic enough for Anne to not realize that they had moved across the room to the bed. Their hands and lips were already traveling everywhere in order to divest them of their clothes. She had forgotten how agile his hands were when it came to removing her more complicated garments like her corset. But once she found herself wearing only her chemise, laying on the bed, she hesitated and Athos felt it.  
  
“Athos, I…” she was suddenly speechless and felt bashful. Bashful? When was the last time she felt this way? Did she ever? If she did, it was so long ago, it was foreign to her.  
  
“Anne,” he seemed to be at a loss for words too. He reached up and caressed her cheek which made Anne nuzzle her face into the palm of his hand. Meanwhile, his other hand was more tentative, sliding underneath her chemise, brushing over her torso and and hips.  
  
His intimate strokes were electric and drew out a low moan from her.  
  
“Don’t be too loud. You might frighten Maurice,” Athos cautioned with a smirk.  
  
“I could say the same thing about you,” Anne returned the smirk and pulled him closer for another kiss.  
  
They shared the bed that night.


	3. Chapter 3

In the morning, Athos reached out to Anne’s side of the bed which was cold and empty. He immediately sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, ready to dress and -

He wasn’t able to finish his thought before he saw her in the middle of the room, slipping on her dress.

“No, I haven’t left yet,” she said with her back turned towards him.

He made no response, only hastily throwing on his clothes in case he needed to run after her once she left. Although he was on edge as he sat back on the bed, he couldn’t help but relish the sight of her putting on her corset and tightening the laces herself.

“I wanted to - ” He gulped as he approached her. He reached out and wound his hand around the tresses of her hair. It reminded him of when he used to braid her hair when they were married and that was when Athos knew what he wanted again. So badly.

But Anne swatted at his hand at the same time she swatted away at his hopes for reconciliation.

“Leave it,” she said. As a continued precaution against temptation, she moved towards the table in the corner and grabbed her gloves.

She peered over at him, standing there in the middle of the room. He looked solemn and lost. She felt her body involuntarily cringe at the sight of his figure growing rigid and hard again - both of them were building those walls again, stone by stone. No doubt he could see it in her eyes, just as she saw it in the way he stood in front of her. The distance was starting to grow between them again, what once felt comforting was now feeling like a prison. She wanted to go back to bed with him and stay there forever, but it was too late now.

“Don’t go, Anne, please.” He swallowed. She could beg to not build his walls again like she was doing, but she refused.

“Aramis will join you soon,” Anne responded. A moment later, she left without giving a chance to reply.


End file.
